Manatita is an esteemed author living in London, UK. He writes spiritual books, flash fiction and esoteric poetry, his favourite genre.
"My sweet Lord Beloved Supreme,
It is Father's Day.
You are our Father,
Our only Father Supreme.
On this Father's Day
We, Your children would like to have
A supreme boon from You:
Do grant us the capacity
To be sleepless servitors
Of Your Eternity's Will." -Sri Chinmoy
An eight syllable ode-like ballad, which rhymes at the end of every line. Rhymes are not so easy to do, as they are meant to flow with tempo, beat, rhythm. Indeed, some modern experts are of the opinion that the syllables need not necessarily be precise, as long as the cadence ... the flow, is right. Enjoy.
Dance with my Father
He gave me comfort, money; toys,
He showered love and heard my cries.
When I was wrong he did address,
My faults with sweetness at its best.
He gave me praises; scolding’s too,
“I’ll make a better man of you!”
And so I learnt my lessons well,
Proud of my daddy, truth to tell.
At times with mother, saw him sleep,
Head through the pillows, had a peep.
With life’s endeavours, laughed and wept,
Embraced as one we always slept.
Concern, devotion was his name,
All through his life ‘twas just the same.
Fun-loving, witty; life of care,
For mom and I, went everywhere!
My father was a man of God,
Through trials; rain, was never sad.
He counseled me when in distress,
Elated, proud of my success.
A doctor great, turned out to be,
But wanted most for him to see,
The Heart of beauty I became,
All blessings to my father’s name.
Manatita, The Lantern Carrier, 16th June, 2018
Ode to My Beloved One
O gorgeous Source of my inheritance, Come!
Today I see the elegant calligraphy of Your Love,
Written on the very flutter of the butterfly,
Dancing within the shrine of thy Heart.
Beloved Papaji, like a sweet symphony,
Echoing from the melodies of Heaven,
You induce my core to weep with joyfulness,
Basking in the matchless aura of Your concern.
Come! You who ignite the candles in my Soul --
The source of all its impulses --, come!
Seal all its leaking reservoirs, with the
Stamp of living water, so that I never thirst.
Do you recognise this Dad?
In Your sweet haven, like the wafts of spring flowers,
I can hear the music of nightingales,
Singing with the eloquence of Meera;
The charming melody of Sri Krishna’s flute.
Beloved Papa, like the kinship of the string and its sitar,
You mean so much to me!
Without the string, there is no rhythm;
Without You, life is like a stagnant stream.
Come! Cute Dadiji, take my hand, so we’ll never part,
Together we’ll build a temple of Peace, inside my yearning Heart.
Manatita, The Lantern Carrier. 17th November, 2016.
~ Awakening The Inner Light ~
Fathers and their duties
© 2018 manatita44